"Elveda" Istanbul

Before leaving for the airport at noon, we had free time all morning. Maja said she would take a group to the Grand Bazaar to do a little last minute shopping and to use up the rest of our lira. Maja showed us a couple shops that were good quality and affordable, and then we had time to explore on our own. Cami and I broke off from everyone else and walked around, more appropriately to get lost in the busy streets. We would occasionally run into others from the group, but with different shopping goals in mind, we quickly went in different directions. The Grand Bazaar was so large that we spent the majority of the time finding our bearing before being swallowed by the windy streets and packed shops. We soon gave up as there was no point trying to keep track of where we were because many of the shops looked the same and it was inevitable that we would have no idea where we were. Our plan for escaping this maze was to leave a half hour early and pray that we made it out in time.

As two young women walking around the male dominated shopping area, we were often engaged and called to. Some notable lines were "1, 2, I love you, 3, 4, here comes more, 5, 6, give a kiss" or "Buy one get me free." Cami and I had been asked several times if we were sisters or friends, and where we came from, or what we were doing in Turkey. Cami must have been getting tired of all the cat calls because next time someone asked if we were sisters she yelled, "No, we're lesbian lovers!" Many guys stopped to look at us and the street seemed to get unusually quiet until the guys began to engage and again asking if we were serious and trying to get us into their shop. These men really would stop at nothing to get us into their shop.

Another store we walked by had a really awesome backpack out front. I've been looking for a bag for a long time because the one I've been using at school broke a few weeks before the end of the semester. I looked in Copenhagen, but they were all so expensive and I couldn't find the right one. I figured buying one in Istanbul would be significantly cheaper, so we began our search through the bazaar. We entered the shop with the awesome bag hanging outside and were excited to find that it was empty with no busy shoppers or annoying shopkeeper. That was short lived, because within a minute the shopkeeper entered and said, "I have one question for you. Are you from heaven?" It took everything we had not to turn around and walk right out of the store. After awkwardly laughing and rolling our eyes, we continued to look around the store. I asked how much the backpack out front was and he told me 150 lira, about 75 USD. It was approaching the end of the day and I was running low on lira, so I told him that I didn't have that much in my wallet. I said I only had 60 lira even though I hadn't really looked to see how much I had left. We went back and forth several times, but I kept my ground with 60 lira. He finally got down to 70 lira, but at that point Cami and I were sick and tired of the suggestive and inappropriate comments, so we decided it wasn't even worth it anymore. I really was going to settle with 70 lira until he opened his mouth, but I knew we could easily find another bag among the many shops.

After wandering a little longer we decided to try and find the same shop with the bag, but found it hopeless because we had no idea where it was. It was probably good that we didn't find it because I didn't want to deal with that man for any minute longer. Luckily, while we were looking for the other shop, I ran into another bag store that had an even bigger selection with nicer quality bags. It was about time that we had to head back to the hotel, but I found myself playing the same game as before. The man started at 150 lira and I told him I didn't have that much in my wallet, I still had no idea how much I had. I told him another store was offering me 60 and that we were trying to find it again. We went back and forth, and we really had to go, so I finally settled for 90 lira, about $45. It was a little more than I would have liked to spend, but it is an absolutely beautiful bag and just what I've been looking for. I found similar bags in Copenhagen for about $150, so I figured $45 was a good compromise. It turns out I really did have 150 lira in my wallet to begin with.

I was running into the same problem as before of having too much lira. I could have exchanged it at the airport or once back in Copenhagen, but after the commission it seemed like a wasted effort. It seems as though there are more scarves in the Grand Bazaar than anything else, so I decided to get one last scarf to finish off my lira. I have a fear of entering one of the small shops and getting trapped by the shopkeeper as he stands with his arms blocking the door, unable to leave until we buy out the shop. That is what it felt like going into the last shop of the day. The shopkeeper used to live in the United States and wouldn't stop talking to us about where we were from and what we were doing in Istanbul. We really had to be heading back to the hotel, so I pretty much grabbed the first scarf that caught my eye. Cami bought some scarves earlier for 20 lira each, and I figured I would just find one like that. The first one I grabbed was supposed to be 45 lira, so I was just going to put it back and look for ones that were cheaper. The shopkeeper wouldn't leave it alone and was pushing me to buy the more expensive one. We went through the same routine again where I would say I didn't have enough money in my wallet and he would lower it by 3 lira. Again, I would say I don't have enough money in my wallet and he would lower it by 3 lira. I just wanted to use up the rest of my lira and told him I'd look at the cheaper ones. He finally said he would give it to me fore 30 lira and a kiss. According to Cami, I looked like I wanted to vomit, but I kissed him on the cheek, handed him 30 lira, and practically ran out of the store. It is a beautiful pashmina scarf, and if anything it was worth the story.

The last time I blinked must have been Sunday morning as I was doing laundry at 4am getting ready for this trip of a lifetime. I can't believe it is already our last day in Istanbul and we are heading back to Denmark in just a few short hours. Koray met us at the hotel to see us off and make sure we were on the bus with enough time to catch our flight. As he stood at the front of the bus saying goodbye one last time, Koray explained how this is the most difficult part for him. It is amazing how much we have learned, grown, and changed over the past five days. Arriving last Sunday and knowing very little about Istanbul, let alone Turkey, I now have a better understanding of Turkey's past, present, and future. I've grown to love this place and hope to return one day. In terms of group bonding, Koray told us that we were on the top three list of favorite groups he has had the opportunity to lead. This made it that much more difficult to say goodbye, but unfortunately it was time.

Flirtatious males seem to be all over this country. I had just put all my belongings through the conveyer belt in the security line and was waiting to walk through the metal detector. One of the security guards that was letting people through began talking to me. The conversation started with the security guard asking me where I was from. At this point I'm thinking this is relatively harmless. He is just making sure I'm not a terrorist or attempting to smuggle drugs or small children out of the country. He then asks me what my job is. I find that telling people I work at a shelter for battered women can be intimidating and aggressive, but luckily he didn't seem to understand what I meant by domestic violence and abused or battered women. I brushed it off and continued to wait to go through the metal detector. He then asks my name. At this point, things are starting to get fishy and I'm beginning to realize what's going on. I tell him my name and he responds with his name which I couldn't pronounce or possibly attempt to spell. I'm starting to get impatient. This poor security guard is stopping me from going through the metal detector and get on with my day just because he wants to flirt with me. He continues to comment on how much he likes Americans and how wonderful they are. I'm about ready to make a run for it when he says, "You are very beautiful, have a nice life" as he lets me continue through the line.

As if my interactions with the security guard weren't enough. I'm sitting at the gate as three more security personnel are sitting across from us and constantly looking over at us. Cami and I stood up to go use the restroom and they guards begin pointing at us. We walk over to them because they looked as though they were trying to tell us something. We had some trash in our hands, so we thought they might be pointing us towards a trashcan. They started pointing at me and one of them tells me that he really likes my hair. I literally looked like a slob. I was wearing a tank top, comfortable pants that had absolutely no form, and my hair was down and a complete mess. Men in this country have consistently baffled me from day one. We awkwardly walked away to find a bathroom unsure of how and why that interaction just happened.

It was sad leaving 90 degree weather and coming back to Copenhagen where 65 degrees seemed warm. On a more positive note, it was obvious that we were back in Copenhagen because we were back to the land of beautiful people. Even in the airport where people generally look like they've been awake for 36 hours, there were attractive people everywhere you looked. Not to mention I was back to being ignored while walking through the streets. Being ignored was a welcomed change to not making it 5 feet without being stared at or called to. There are many differences between Denmark, Turkey, and the United States. One place isn't necessarily better than the other, but different in their own respective ways. This past week has been a once in a lifetime experience. I've learned a great deal and met some incredible people along the way.